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The light of the world

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Fourth Sunday of Lent, Cycle A Readings: 1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41 WE DO NOT SEE as God sees. We see the appearance, but God looks into the heart. That message came home to the prophet Samuel, as he looked down the row of Jesse's fine and handsome sons. He was on a quest for the next leader of Israel. Israel's first king, Saul, was large and powerful, charismatic and courageous in battle. But in fact Saul had made a dreadful ruler, vain and unwise. So Samuel was taking his time in reviewing Jesse's able sons. God told him this was the right house, but Samuel feared these were the wrong sons. Being a seer, he knew which question to ask: "Are these all the sons you have?" Samuel knew there was nothing wrong with what he was seeing. It was what he was not seeing that was the key to his mission. And so he met David and anointed the rightful king over Israel. That is our first lesson in discernment, which could be defined as learning to see as God sees. Beyond the surface of things lies the essence of reality that we often call the heart of the matter. At the core of people and circumstances is a truth much more powerful than what we observe with our eyes. But because it takes time and wisdom to navigate to the core, mostly we dismiss it in favor of what delights us at first glance. On the surface of things the man born blind was a luckless individual. Either he was a terrible sinner or a product of sin. At least that was the popular theory of the day. God had deprived him of his sight for a reason. Jesus did not disagree with that assessment. And he suggested that the reason was not what people thought. The blind man wasn't a signpost of the effects of sin; he was a receptacle for God's imminent glory. Jesus took the apparent situation and turned it on its head. Which is what Jesus often did with accepted reality. Think about the popular assumptions Jesus overthrew: Suffering wasn't payback for sin but an opportunity for grace. Death was not the trapdoor of the underworld but the gateway to eternal life. The poor had the kingdom given to them. The meek would inherit what the powerful had to surrender. The last, incredibly, would be first. Think about the popular assumptions Jesus overthrew: Suffering wasn't payback for sin but an opportunity for grace. Death was not the trapdoor of the underworld but the gateway to eternal life. Because Jesus saw to the heart of the matter, he knew the man born blind could see far better than the religious leaders around him The comedy that emerges from the cure demonstrates that. All of a sudden the man's neighbors aren't sure this is the fellow they've seen on his stoop all their lives. Isn't this man supposed to be blind? The Pharisees study this act of God and absurdly conclude that its roots are in sin. They drag in the parents to testify on behalf of a grown man, which is lunacy of course; but that's how little the personhood of this man is respected. Finally they put the man formerly known as blind back on the witness stand and insist he disavow the "sinner" who cured him. Naturally, this he cannot do. With utter simplicity, he declares: "If this man is a sinner, I do not know. But one thing I do know: I was blind and now I see." Clarity of vision in the face of the miraculous is one thing the authorities cannot take away, not with all their arguments and certitudes. The fellow now more properly known as "the man who sees" encounters Jesus a second time. Jesus asks him if he believes in the apocalyptic figure of the Son of Man. The man who sees knows instinctively which question to ask. He doesn't engage in theological queries about the meaning of this figure. He asks only, "Who is he?" Like the prophet Samuel he waits only to be pointed in the right direction. And Jesus points to himself: "The one speaking with you is he." We recognize these words from the encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well. The one people are seeking is always the one whose words they are already hearing. We, too, stand in the presence of Jesus. We wait for truth like a compass to point us to the way of life. We hear the word of God proclaimed in our midst and recognize that the one who speaks is the one our hearts have been yearning for. To our hearts Jesus is true north. If we follow the sound of his voice, we can never be lost. Jesus, we believe and profess, is the light of the world who opens the eyes of the blind so they might see. Elect and baptized, we want to see as God sees, with the clear vision of discernment. We seek to know the heart of the matter as we make choices in our relationships, in our labor, in the things dearest to each of us. We know the cure for our blindness: "Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light."

Authors Alice Camille

Special occasion Lent Fourth Sunday of Lent, Cycle A scrutinies rcia rite of christian initiation of adults catechumens 1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a Ephesians 5:8-14 John 9:1-41

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Go with God's word

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Rite of Sending WHAT CAN BE MORE POWERFUL than the Word of God? My friends, what other force on this earth or beyond it has the ability to create and transform the world like the initiating, sustaining divine Word? God spoke—and worlds came into being. When God speaks, the Bible tells us, mountains move, valleys are filled, and highways appear in the desert. Once God calls a thing into being, it exists, it happens. And when God chose to speak a word-made-flesh into human history, Jesus became one with us in the same way he is one with God. God’s Word is alive, scripture says, and it penetrates our hearts (Hebrews 4:12). This living Word can renew our hearts when they have grown tired of love’s betrayals, and this Word can transform our hearts when they become full of the darkness of our own poor choices. This Word is so powerful, in fact, that according to today’s gospel, even the devil wants to use it! Did you listen to the story of how Jesus faces off with the tempter in the desert? The first two times the devil speaks, Jesus answers him with a quote from scripture. So the third time the devil speaks, he quotes the Bible twice! But the words are misused in the mouth of one who does not have faith. That’s what Saint Paul tells us: “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” We have to do both: Say it and believe it! We can profess all the creeds we want, call ourselves Christians, use all the right formulas, but without taking God’s Word into our hearts and letting it transform our lives from within, we’re no better than the tempter. This is the real definition of “using God’s name in vain”—not cussing with it, but rather speaking about God and performing the rituals of religion and not intending to change our lives at all. So let’s not make this mistake! We have an opportunity given to us in every single moment to get serious about our faith, to say it and believe it and let it go to work in our lives. God’s Word was powerful enough to create worlds, remember: Surely there’s enough oomph in it to change your heart and mine. We have an opportunity given to us in every single moment to get serious about our faith, to say it and believe it and let it go to work in our lives. IN OUR COMPANY TODAY are some special folks who have been praying and studying God’s Word with us for months in preparation for adult baptism into the life of faith [as well as those Christians who have been preparing to be received into full communion with our Catholic Church]. These catechumens [and candidates] will be presenting themselves before the bishop this afternoon at the cathedral and celebrating what is known as the Rite of Election. When we hear that word, election, we presume that votes are to be cast. And in a real sense, votes have been cast in favor of these women and men. Our RCIA team with its catechists and supporters has voted on behalf of the readiness of these friends in our midst. And their godparents [and sponsors] will stand with them today and cast their vote of approval as well. And we, the people of [N.] parish, are participating in the election of these hopeful new members by our presence in this assembly. As we send them off to the cathedral today, they go with God’s blessings and our prayers and support. The Word of God has reached into these women and men, enlivening them with the desire to join our community and share the adventure of faith with us. We who have been “church” for a while now also have a responsibility to admit this active Word into our lives if we haven’t already done so; or to embrace it more deeply and deliberately if we have. “The Word is near you,” Saint Paul reminds us. It’s all around us this morning: in the readings from scripture, in Jesus our word offered to us in the sacrament, in the words-made-flesh of every person here in this gathering of the church. God’s Word is alive in our midst, and it won’t disappoint. If we invite this transforming force into our lives, every dream God ever had for us will come true. SO LET’S LEAVE IT to the forces of darkness to spout pious words and not to live them; or to speak God’s name in vain and not put faith in divine goodness. As we begin this Lenten season together, we confirm that we cannot live on bread alone—or on any of the empty promises of worldly goals. Every word that comes from the mouth of God brings life. If you were offered even one more day of living, wouldn’t you take it?

Authors Alice Camille

Special occasion Lent First Sunday of Lent, Cycle A Rite of sending scrutinies rcia rite of christian initiation of adults catechumens

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Living water

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Third Sunday of Lent, Cycle A Readings: Exodus 17:3-7; Romans 5:1-2, 5-8; John 4:5-42 I MOVED to a desert town some time ago, for reasons that had less to do with the desert than with the city. Urban life had become too expensive, loud, complicated, and distracting. I decided to look for life in the slow lane. After hunting through various communities near the beach, in the mountains, and on the back roads, I wound up on the edge of the Mojave Desert. As far as the eye could see, there wasn't much to see. I stayed. In the desert I have learned a lot about water, more than I knew during the 15 previous years living near the ocean. When you are close to a body of water, it becomes an aesthetic element. You appreciate it enormously: It's part of the view, and maybe a source of entertainment. It could even be your livelihood. But in the desert, the tie to water is immediate, instinctive, and critical. You have to have it close at hand, all the time, or risk injury or fatality. Near the ocean I often felt thirsty and looked around for a place to get a drink. In the desert I don't get thirsty. If you go so far as to feel thirst, it may already be too late: Dehydration has begun. The remarkable heat combined with a novel lack of humidity leeches the moisture from your body around the clock. Water is now a preventative, a staple item in every hour, a thing I resort to long before I am ever aware I need it. When I read scripture about water now, I think I finally get it. These desert people aren't talking about having a drink, as city folk do. They are talking about the difference between life and death. These desert people aren't talking about having a drink, as city folk do. They are talking about the difference between life and death. I used to think of the Israelites in the desert as a bunch of ungrateful children. How they quarrel, forgetful of all God has done for them! They turn up their noses at the spectacle of the ten plagues, the parting of the Red Sea, and liberation after generations of slavery. All they know is what they want now. But having walked for an hour on a hot day under the desert sun myself, I realize they could not go forward without water. It wasn't simply that they were thirsty. They were ill. Their heads ached, their eyes burned, their stomachs were wrenched. They were desperately in need of water. But the Israelites were guilty of one thing: They had little confidence in God or Moses. They needed water, but they didn't ask for it. They just complained and accused. If you had asked them the question that appears at the end of the story—"Is the Lord in our midst or not?"—the answer would have been a resounding no. Even then God demonstrates that the power to produce water from a rock is available to those who call upon the name of the Lord. Too bad they didn't call on that name. Too bad the only name they invoked was "Egypt." Today we stand before the Lord as did the woman who encountered him at the well in Samaria. We are thirsty in ways we cannot dream of, just as she was, as all desert people are who live in an environment that is hostile to them. We are made for God's kingdom, yet we live under the tyranny of sin. We hope for eternal life, but our mortal bodies are going the way of suffering and death. We eat and drink and do all we can to sustain health and strength. But all the forces around and within us are heading the other way. No matter what we do, moths, rust and decay are winning. We only have to invoke one name with confidence to reverse the odds and gain the victory. The Samaritan woman struggled to find that name. When she met Jesus, she saw him as a "Jew" and a "man." She knew lots of both: She didn't have much use for either. But he impressed her so much that, in rapid order, she addressed him as "sir" then wondered if he were a prophet and finally if he might be the Christ who is coming. In the end, thanks to her, the entire town came to know Jesus as "truly the savior of the world." When the woman left the well to run back to town, she abandoned her water jar. She had come to that place to get the one thing needful for life. In the encounter with Jesus, she found it. We Lenten people arrive at this point in the desert together. Elect and baptized, we know that the waters of Baptism are the one thing needful, the invitation to eternal life. We know we can leave the jar we brought with us on the outside of this invitation—we won't be needing it anymore, to carry away the empty promises of the world. What we gain in Baptism is life itself, life to the fullest. What we find at this table is food enough to sustain us on this journey. What we have been waiting for is here, in the one whose word is the truth. We are blessed to know his name: Jesus, the Christ who is coming, our living water, the one who saves.

Authors Alice Camille

Special occasion Lent Third Sunday of Lent, Cycle A scrutinies rcia rite of christian initiation of adults catechumens Exodus 17:3-7 Romans 5:1-2, 5-8 John 4:5-42

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Glory begins here

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Fifth Sunday of Lent, Cycle A Readings: Ezekiel 37:12-14; Romans 8:8-11; John 11:1-45 THE SKY AWASH with color at sunset. A field covered in spring flowers. These exquisite elements of nature's design are instinctive places we might go to catch a glimpse of glory. But there are others: a moment of public honor, receiving an award for services rendered or bravery enacted. The spotlight on artistic ability, intellectual achievement, or scientific invention. Or how about the common miracles of life: being chosen in love. Holding a baby in your arms. Encountering a dream come true at last. These things, too, are glorious. What we mean by glory has many interpretations. But however we use the word, we rarely mean what Jesus meant when he talked about glory. We don't go looking for it in the shame of a woman who's had five failed marriages and has grown used to being thirsty for something she cannot find. We don't peer into the face of a man born blind who has spent his life as an object of pity. We certainly don't seek glory at the deathbed of a friend, or go to the tombs where the stench of decay is already pungent. Glory, whatever it is, is an experience that exalts and uplifts us. Though we may have trouble defining it precisely, we think we know where to find it, and where not to bother looking. We often speak of "giving God the glory" as if it's something we possess that God is in need of. Technically, glory is an attribute of God. It is a trait essential to divinity and, if anything, a thing bestowed on creation from the opposite direction. Though we talk of giving glory to God, our intention is to acknowledge the glory that is already an aspect of God's nature. We often speak of "giving God the glory" as if it's something we possess that God is in need of. Technically, glory is an attribute of God. It is a trait essential to divinity and, if anything, a thing bestowed on creation from the opposite direction. Though we talk of giving glory to God, our intention is to acknowledge the glory that is already an aspect of God's nature. Glory is often equated with radiance, and that is not simply a romantic idea. Glory is something God emanates; therefore envisioning glory as a radiant quality, like the brightness Jesus displayed in his Transfiguration, makes sense. The artistic invention of the halo became a way of signifying the hallow-ness of a life that participated in making the greater glory of God known on earth. This emanation of light was often drawn as a circlet but also took other shapes. A triangular halo was used to indicate God the Father and sometimes the infant Jesus—a reminder that he remained part of the Trinity even through the journey of Incarnation. A square halo over a person's head implied sainthood in the making. A full body halo, as we see in portrayals of Our Lady of Guadalupe, was reserved only for Jesus or the Mother of God. Not every human life could reveal that much glory! John's gospel shows an acute interest in the demonstration of glory and manages to do it without any haloes. Instead, the first half of the book concentrates on seven signs that reveal the power God is capable of manifesting—and chooses to entrust to Jesus. These signs show divine authority breaking into human history, as water is turned into wine, the sick are made whole, loaves and fish are multiplied, and Jesus walks on the surface of the lake. Jesus turns poverty into abundance and impossibility into reality. But nothing comes close to what he does at the tomb of Lazarus. There death and life meet like actors and exchange roles. There the thick immutable line between the dead and the living becomes strangely permeable. When Lazarus, four days dead, comes shuffling out of his grave, something that was always true has been turned into a lie. And something that was never true becomes possible. The glory of God had not been revealed in all of human history as it was in this hour. Suddenly we learned something for sure that had until now been consigned to the realm of our hopes. In the reign of God, death and life are fluid matters, wholly under God's power to control. Though death appears final and incontrovertible to us, from God's perspective it is a twinkle in the eye of eternity. And even then, at the graveside of Lazarus, the real hour of glory had yet to arrive. The restoration of Lazarus was a sideshow compared to the Resurrection to come. In the hour of glory for which Jesus had been born, life would not simply be resuscitated but revealed as part of a new creation that would never suffer or die again. The glory of the Risen One would make him unrecognizable to those who loved him best. We still have sunsets and lilies in the field. But these quick peeks into the mystery remind us that glory awaits us just below the surface of those forbidding places we avoid: human limitation, want, suffering, and death. Poverty and impossibility are the deepest repositories for the revelation of God, which awaits only our recognition of it.

Authors Alice Camille

Special occasion Lent Fifth Sunday of Lent, Cycle A scrutinies rcia rite of christian initiation of adults catechumens Ezekiel 37:12-14 Romans 8:8-11 John 11:1-45

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Homily stories

06 Mar 2016 - Fourth Sunday of Lent, Cycle C

In the fifth grade Sister Annette moved me to the front seat of the middle row and I still couldn’t read the chalkboard. My eyes were checked by an ophthalmologist who prescribed glasses to correct my nearsightedness. In those days there weren’t eyewear stores in every mall. I had to be taken downtown to be fitted. Even now I remember being stunned by the clarity and beauty of the world around me as we left the aptly named “House of Vision.” Today we are in the middle of our Lenten journey traveling alongside those in the R.C.I.A. who are preparing to join fully with us in the Catholic Church at Easter. Let us pause to rejoice at the beauty around us. We had been blinded by our sinfulness, but our Lenten prayers and sacrifices have restored our vision, like the man who received his sight from Jesus. Like him, we are compelled to share what we now see with others, even and especially with non-believers. Jesus sees the goodness in us and helps us to see it. We are forgiven. Let us rejoice. Our task now becomes helping others do the same.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

rcia Lent blind vision

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Exploring the word

29 Mar 2009 - Fifth Sunday of Lent, Cycle B

I’ve always felt a real affection for the anonymous Greeks who approach Philip in Jerusalem and make their request with disarming frankness: “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.” Who are these people? “Greeks” is a catchall term in 1st-century Israel. These folks speak to Philip in Greek, not in Hebrew or Aramaic. The term suggests nothing about their ethnicity, nor does it spell out whether they are Greek-speaking Jews or Gentiles. But they are in Jerusalem specifically for the Passover, so they are at least God-fearing Gentiles. Because this verse follows the Pharisees’ disgusted remark, “Look, the whole world has gone after him,” we understand that these foreigners are generally unwelcome among the average citizens of Israel. Still, they have the chutzpah to go to Philip, who speaks their language, and ask for the kind of intimate introduction to Jesus that few in the crowds around him received. Why do they want to see Jesus? Not simply for the photo-op, we can imagine. Being seen in the company of Jesus in those troubled days was a mixed bag, not necessarily something you wanted to advertise. So there’s both some daring and some risk involved in this direct request. Obviously they don’t want to look at Jesus. They want to know him. Maybe they are hoping, at this late date—although no one knows the lateness of the hour besides Jesus and his adversaries—to become his disciples. It’s not their fault that they come into the story too late to walk around the countryside with him and absorb his teaching. They cannot know that they are seeking the acquaintance of Jesus when the time before his execution can be counted out in hours. And Jesus, for his part, agrees to their request. He agrees that it is high time to be seen: “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” Jesus is about to be lifted up to a place where he can be viewed, not only for miles, but also for centuries. The arrival of the Greeks, in a sense, is a sign to Jesus that his hour of Passion and glorification is about to unfold. For their part the Greeks didn’t mean to be a sign of anything. They weren’t trying to be special. They expressed a need that people coming to faith often experience: the desire for greater union with Jesus. RCIA catechumens and candidates frequently seek a closer relationship with Jesus than the cradle Catholic, and they are anxious to acquire that intimacy. In this sense, we lifelong Catholics need to take our cue from the newcomers. If we would like to see Jesus, all we have to do is ask. Related scripture links Life is over like a sigh: Ps. 90:9-10; Isa. 40:6-8 One day is a thousand years: 2 Pet. 3:8; Ps. 90:4 The moment of decision: Deut. 30:19; Rom. 10:9 The wages of sin: Rom. 6:23 Jesus knows the hour: John 2:4; 4:21; 5:25; 7:6-8; 16:1-4, 25-33; 17:1-5 Catechism links Eucharist involves each of us: CCC 790; 1140-1144; 1368-1405 Direct lay participation: CCC 903; 1118-1121; 1348

Authors Alice Camille

Philip son of man Greek rcia

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Exploring the word

11 Jan 2009 - Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, Cycle B

January’s probably not the month most of us like to go swimming. I’ve heard of groups that take a swim in the ocean every January 1, but that sort of chilling experience is not how I personally want to dive into 2009. Yet Catholics receive this wintry advice from the prophet Isaiah: Come to the water! Thankfully, he’s only talking about a drink of water. Even a cautious person might be willing to take a sip or two. Yet water in salvation history is not a modest proposition. Sure, take a drink, says Isaiah. Water quenches our thirst. But later Jesus proposes to wash the feet of his disciples. Seems innocent enough. Just get your feet wet, right? Even in mid-winter we might agree to that. Finally, we reach this gospel story about baptism: not the sprinkling kind, but total immersion in the River Jordan. Uh-oh. We suspect this is where we’ve been headed all along. Isaiah’s little sip has turned into a full-length plunge! Are we prepared to take that plunge? To be frank, most of us already have. Baptized Christians have already made the extreme commitment to die to sin and live for God in Christ Jesus. A few of our members may be preparing to make that commitment later this spring. If the plunge was taken for us through the kindness of parents and godparents when we were infants, it’s not an active memory for us, which is too bad. If we’d taken that New Year’s dive into the ocean, we’d surely remember that! The thrill of hitting the water and what it took to steel ourselves for that leap would mark us for courage, remind us to take risks necessary to achieve our goals. This is where adult baptism has it over the usual kind: RCIA catechumens know what it means to take that leap and come to the water. And what it means, no less, is that we come to know ourselves as the beloved of God in whom God takes delight. Imagine: God is taking delight in your existence right now. How does that make you feel? Happy? Embarrassed? Humbled? Exalted? Most of us greet this news with mixed emotions because we’d like to offer God better than what we’ve made of our lives so far-even so far today, maybe. If we’re embarrassed, we can use that to propel us into an attitude of humility: Our mortality is showing, let’s try again. From humility we can work our way to joy at being invited to the water in the first place. With practice we may even reach the exaltation of knowing ourselves to be God’s beloved at last. Related scripture links God sees what is in the heart: Luke 16:15; Acts 15:8 In Christ no Jew or Gentile: Gal. 3:26-29; 4:6-7; Col. 3:11 God’s anointed: Luke 4:16-21 The Father and Jesus are one: John 22-23

Authors Alice Camille

salvation history baptism rcia christians

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Love is the trump card

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Third Sunday of Lent, Cycle A Readings: Exodus 17:3-7; Romans 5:1-2, 5-8; John 4:5-42 WE'RE HALFWAY through Lent. It might be a good time to ask ourselves: What are we doing in church? I don’t mean today. I mean ultimately. What is the purpose of our being here, part of this community of faith, engaging in the spiritual quest, looking for God, striving after holiness, embracing the moral life, seeking answers to life’s questions in a religious context? That is a big question: We probably can’t answer it in a sentence. But by this time we should have some idea how to begin to address the question of why we are here, as opposed to the thousands of other places we could be on the weekend. What is the essence of our God-quest, which has led us to this assembly? Our RCIA elect have spent the past many months asking themselves questions like this, and hopefully they’ve been coming up with answers that have been personally satisfying and publicly convincing. The rest of us in our community of faith are not off the hook, however, just because we’ve got baptism and confirmation in our “mission accomplished” files. These sacramental hours may be behind us, but the unfolding of their meaning is still ahead of us. And, of course, there’s still that final sacrament of initiation, Eucharist, which is the divine gift that keeps on giving. The RCIA crowd has been working hard and purposefully toward the goal of being completely “incorporated”—that is, “taken into the body” of Christ. They’ve been faithfully studying and praying and discerning what the call of this identity in Christ entails. Some of us who have been Catholic “forever” may take this privileged identity in Christ for granted. We might all need to take this opportunity to consider what we are doing here and what we hope to learn here. The RCIA crowd has been working hard and purposefully toward the goal of being completely “incorporated”—that is, “taken into the body” of Christ. The secular well may not have much to offer the leadenhearted, but not for lack of trying. Consider the smorgasbord of consumerism, entertainment, addictions, the sexualization of almost everything, the steady wall of sound that forms the backbeat of our environment. If we grow dull from the gnawing purposelessness of our days, there is always some stimulant put before us to snap us out of the malaise. But the problem with the worldly well is that its water does not bring life. Its influence wanes, and we find ourselves needing more. We have to turn on the TV tonight and tomorrow, eat that pizza, pour that drink, or buy that new sofa. Will it bring the happiness the ads promise? How many sofas will we buy before we wake up to the realization that we’re drawing water from the wrong well? When Israel thirsted in the desert, it was an earthly well they were looking for. Their complaint betrayed a lack of trust in God and dissatisfaction with the leadership of Moses. “Why did you make us leave Egypt?” they asked—though no one made them do anything, of course. They remained in a slave-mentality, unwilling to accept responsibility for the road they were on. After water miraculously flowed for them, however, their query took an abrupt shift: “Is the Lord in our midst or not?” That was the right question to ask. It is the question people of faith must answer. If we decide that God is with us, then we have to stop going to the worldly well for the water that will never satisfy. That is why we come to church, and why we are church: to learn how to be a community of faith, hope, and love—to cultivate these three virtues. We might believe alone, and we might keep the flame of hope alive alone. But no one loves in isolation. Love is not a game of solitude. Just as God’s love seeks us, so our love seeks expression in special relationships, in commitment to the common good, and in solidarity with the last and the least. Love will not always be a joyful or painless undertaking—as Jesus on the cross reminds us—but it is one of the few things that last, and the only thing that will satisfy. The Samaritan woman instinctively knew that love was the answer. That’s why she kept returning to the well time and again, seeking communion however brokenly with this husband and that. In Jesus she found what she was looking for, and she was able to leave her bucket behind at last. She also had good news enough to share and sought out her whole village to share it with. That’s why she has become one of the classic Lenten examples of discipleship. When we’re ready to take the good news to the village, we’ll know we’ve arrived.

Authors Alice Camille

Special occasion Lent Third Sunday of Lent, Cycle A scrutinies rcia rite of christian initiation of adults catechumens Exodus 17:3-7 Romans 5:1-2, 5-8 John 4:5-42

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This well is deep

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Third Sunday of Lent, Cycle A Readings: Exodus 17:3-7; Romans 5:1-2, 5-8; John 4:5-42 THE HUMAN BODY is mostly water, so it’s no surprise that thirst is a primary concern. But the thirst of the body is only one of the aches we experience when we speak of being thirsty. Thoreau pointed to another kind of thirst when he said, “The majority of men [sic] lead lives of quiet desperation.” Aldous Huxley was even more explicit about the need for something beyond food, clothing, and shelter when he wrote, “Most men and women lead lives at the worst so painful, at the least so monotonous, poor, and limited that the urge to escape, the longing to transcend themselves if only for a few moments, is and always has been one of the principle appetites of the soul.” Many of us experience the longing for transcendence from the weary routines of work, childcare, laundry, and standing in lines. At times even our most significant relationships grow stale. When love seems barren and life’s pursuits meaningless, church may be the last place we expect to find the transcendence we are waiting for. The secular well may not have much to offer the leadenhearted, but not for lack of trying. Consider the smorgasbord of consumerism, entertainment, addictions, the sexualization of almost everything, the steady wall of sound that forms the backbeat of our environment. If we grow dull from the gnawing purposelessness of our days, there is always some stimulant put before us to snap us out of the malaise. But the problem with the worldly well is that its water does not bring life. Its influence wanes, and we find ourselves needing more. We have to turn on the TV tonight and tomorrow, pour that drink, or buy that new sofa. Will it bring the happiness the ads promise? How many sofas will we buy before we wake and realize that we’re drawing water from the wrong well? But the problem with the worldly well is that its water does not bring life. When Israel thirsted in the desert, it was an earthly well they were looking for. Their complaint betrayed a lack of trust in God and dissatisfaction with the leadership of Moses. “Why did you make us leave Egypt?” they asked—though no one made them do anything, of course. They remained in slave-mentality, unwilling to accept responsibility for the road they were on. After water miraculously flowed for them, however, their query took an abrupt shift: “Is the Lord in our midst or not?” This was the right question to ask. This is the question people of faith must answer. If we decide that God is with us, then we have to stop going to the worldly well for the water that never satisfies. The Samaritan woman who meets Jesus at the well has had her fill of a lot of things. She’s had enough of foreigners, for one; men, for another; husbands, most of all. When Jesus asks her for a drink, it causes her pent-up dissatisfaction to explode. Jesus sees someone he can work with here. Here’s someone who has exposed the lie of the secular well and can’t be fooled. Yet she nurtures an interior hope that “the Messiah is coming, the one called the Christ; when he comes, he will tell us everything.” Her faith is so strong in this hope that when Jesus says, “I am he, the one speaking with you,” it’s enough for her to abandon her water jar and run to share the good news. And through her story, she shares this news with us. If we have grown tired of the lies that our society tells—about making money, acquiring the dream house or a better spouse, getting the promotion or the home entertainment center—then we can take heart at her story. If we’ve made the mistake of stacking up jobs and bills and pills and calories and partners in the relentless search for something to kill this thirst, we don’t have to feel ashamed, we just have to quit this fruitless behavior right now. What we are looking for is already here. It takes one trip to this well to be sustained for a lifetime, and more. It’s not easy to turn down the super-sized meals, that next drink, the wall of media pounding in our heads that keeps us from thoughtful reflection. Worldly pleasures are not bad, but they cannot provide meaning to our existence. Only sincere grounding in our baptismal commitment can do that. Our catechumens have stood before us all year reminding us of the living water we yearn for. Now our elect share with us a resolution to stop drinking from the wrong wells and to ask ourselves: “Is the Lord in our midst, or not?” If Christ is among us, then our service of love imbues every hour with rich purpose. Christ answers our deepest thirst, tells us everything we need to know, as the Samaritan woman says. The more we listen to his voice, the less power the cry of the world will have over us.

Authors Alice Camille

Special occasion Lent Third Sunday of Lent, Cycle A scrutinies rcia rite of christian initiation of adults catechumens Exodus 17:3-7 Romans 5:1-2, 5-8 John 4:5-42

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You’re under arrest!

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Fourth Sunday of Lent, Cycle A Readings: 1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41 CHRISTIANS TODAY seem to have a lot to worry about. We’re concerned with the place of prayer in public schools, posting the Ten Commandments in courthouses, getting the right judges onto the Supreme Court, and electing worthy political candidates into our government. Christians do and ought to play a prominent role in civic affairs. Our voices should be heard and our values brought to bear on the national debate. But we must not forget that the original interface between Christians and their governments was not a smooth one. On the local level the followers of Jesus were seen as rabble-rousers and troublemakers. From the view of the empire they were bad citizens and possibly a threat to the state itself. Christians apparently had their own king, their own governing authority, and their own way of life that was as countercultural as it was attractive. If the community were not contained, it was bound to spread and the threat grow ever worse. Jesus himself was arrested and put to death by the state under sentence of being “the king of the Jews.” Paul and Peter were both executed in Rome in the 60s, and by the end of the 1st century, the arrest, trial, and execution of Christians was pretty standard. It’s no wonder that the gospels include advice as to how disciples should behave before the courts; assurances that the right testimony would be provided through the Spirit’s power; frank admissions that those who can kill the body can never extinguish the life of the soul. The Acts of the Apostles even supplies the stories of famous and fearless testimonies like Stephen’s—which cost him his life—and Paul’s, which takes many turns over many years yet remains steadfast. Our RCIA elect may feel that in the past weeks and months their faith has been, in a sense, on trial before God and this community. One of the best primers for Christians under arrest is the Johannine story of the man born blind. The man doesn’t get a name, which is typical of John’s technique; he eliminates the name of Jesus’ mother, enlarging her to the role of Woman, and does not name the Beloved Disciple, permitting us all to share that space. We can therefore imagine that John wants us to understand we are all born blind and in need of a fateful encounter with Jesus to open our eyes. And in this Everyman (and Everywoman) character we also get five lessons in what to expect when our faith is on trial—as the writer of John presumes it will be, sooner or later. Lesson Number One: Tell what you know. Your life was a blind alley before you met Jesus. Now you can see. These are simple truths. You don’t have to do great theology to make the point. Lesson Number Two is a harsher one: Don’t expect support from family, friends, and neighbors. Those who have also met Jesus will see what you see. The rest will wash their hands of you. The blind cannot testify to what they don’t see. They’ll forget they even knew you! The next lesson, Number Three, takes confidence in the power of God’s Word: Don’t repeat yourself. Those who can hear will hear the first time. Those who can’t hear won’t hear the tenth time. The more you repeat yourself, the harder their hearts will grow. Lesson Number Four is serious enough to be funny: Your mature sense of humor in Christ probably won’t play well, especially among those who consider themselves religious authorities. Trying to teach the teachers will not impress or endear them to your cause either. The final lesson, Number Five, is: Jesus is not one whom we meet but once. He is always coming around again, and the next encounter rounds out the first—the way the Second Coming completes the Incarnation. So it makes no difference whether your trial ends with you being bounced into the street or into an early grave: Jesus will find you again. He knows where you live, if you live in him. Our RCIA elect may feel that in the past weeks and months their faith has been, in a sense, on trial before God and this community. They have had to tell what they know, respond to questions, and put their own lives under personal scrutiny to answer the ultimate question of this process: Am I ready to participate in the life of Christ? Am I ready to stand in the dock with the rest of Christianity and make my life, from here on out, a testimony to what I believe? Although the elect may feel particularly addressed by this issue because of their candidacy for full admission to the church, the whole assembly should feel personally challenged by the story of the man born blind and his faithful witness. None of us may be hauled off to a courtroom in our lifetime because of what we believe. But that doesn’t relieve us of the responsibility to tell what we know, simply and clearly, and to live what we know as passionately as possible.

Authors Alice Camille

Special occasion Lent Fourth Sunday of Lent, Cycle A scrutinies rcia rite of christian initiation of adults catechumens 1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a Ephesians 5:8-14 John 9:1-41

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